


Cursed

by Rollyzen



Series: "Goretober" 2018- that isn't actually gore [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cursed, Dead Claudia Stilinski, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Self-Hatred, The Hale Fire, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rollyzen/pseuds/Rollyzen
Summary: Day 7 of October: CursedHe was cursed from the moment he was born. John constantly told him he WASN'T cursed but said he thought it probably happened before he was born. When Claudia Stilinski was pregnant, she was attacked in the Preserve. His parents hid the fact that she had miraculously recovered within days and anxiously awaited the arrival of their baby. The relief they felt for days after the baby was born was short lived, though.Neither of them knew what to do with a baby that had glowing eyes and a growling problem.





	Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> eyeyeeyeye. Late again, boys.

Growing up different and alone had few merits he wanted to keep. John was a natural worrier, so his son being an apparent werewolf didn't help. Stiles accepted a long time ago that he just _wouldn't_ be like the other kids at school. He could hear things he shouldn't be able to and _do_ things that were unnatural. Whenever he said things like that his dad would usually say "If it's unnatural, then why can you do it?" Stiles could never come up with a good reply to that.

One of the few blessings he's had between his curse and attention span problems was Scott McCall. In elementary school Scott had found out about his affliction, but it wasn't all that smooth. Kindergarten was a rough year for Stiles to be in school, too. His mom had been diagnosed with an illness he didn't understand, and there was this pressure to control himself or something bad would happen. He didn't understand why when his eyes shone gold it caused concern on his parents faces. He didn't understand why they never did it back. He didn't understand why being different was bad.

The morning that a burnt stench seemed to cover the town didn't even faze him. He was with his mom in the hospital.

* * *

  
Stiles was thankful that Scott was the one of them that was burdened with being the positive one. Not only was he genuine, he also constantly made Stiles feel better. So when Jackson purposefully threw him to the ground in another lacrosse practice, he was able to avoid snapping at him. Scott always watched him in these situations, looked to see if he needed to help. It peeved him off sometimes, but nobody could stay mad at Scott. It was a _rule_.

As another rule, he had a headache coming on strong by the end of the day. The full moon was coming up again, and Stiles was wrung tight. After so many times, it wasn't necessary to lock himself up, but he was still a lot more sensitive to things. It was when he reached his car that a strange scent caught his attention. As nonchalantly as possible for Stiles, he looked around the parking lot. After seeing nothing amiss, he discreetly follows the smell off the property. At the treeline he hesitates. This is weird. Stiles isn't supposed to be _weird_ weird. With one last look, he heads into the far end of the Preserve.

* * *

  
Being in the woods is calming, Stiles has always thought. There are few, if any, artificial smells that give him headaches in the woods. However, the usual comfort he gets is pushed aside in lieu of an objective.

_Find the weird thing._

He stalks around the area for a good ten minutes before the scent picks up. He doesn't even realize how much speed he picked up during his tracking until he collides with someone. Strong hands grip his arms and spins both of them around so they don't fall over. Stiles pants and stares at the dark haired man that's giving him a scowl to kill. Stiles inhales and almost coughs. It wasn't what he was tracking, but it still jarred him. It jerked a part of his mind that said _sad_ , _mourning_.

"This is private property."

Stiles scrunched his nose and opened his mouth to speak.

"What are you doing here?"

The amount of attitude was not lost on him, but he blanked as the question settled.

"I- I was, uh.."

The man's chest rose, and his eyes widened slightly.

He leaned in closer, his eyes glinting sharply, "What are you doing in this territory?"

Stiles flailed, "I don't, um, know what that means. But I was, uh, I was looking for something..?"

" _Why_ are you in another wolf's territory? This land belongs to the Hales."

He looked like he'd bitten into something rotten.

"Wolf?" He said dumbly, heart speeding up. Then, "You're _Derek_ Hale?" His mind finally caught up with the rest of him. The hair, the eyes, the _hotness_ were all Hale traits.

" **Answer my questions.** "

His eyes flashed a shocking blue, and Stiles leaped back. He'd never seen anyone's eyes apart from his own glow like that. His tongue felt heavy and dry in his mouth.

" **Speak** , _omega_."

Derek snarled and pushed his shoulders aggressively. Bright anger flared in his chest as he wheeled back. His fangs ripped from his gums with a loud growl, and his hands jumped to cover his mouth. His hands were shaking so hard he had to dip his claws into his cheeks to hold on.

"..What's wrong?"

The _threat threat threat_ seemed to drop from the air around him as he cautiously approached. Stiles couldn't breathe. He felt like he was going to shake out of his skin and burn into ash on the ground. He felt trapped in place and unable to bend or he'd shatter. His knees hit the ground like weights. The air around his face stung coldly.

" _Breathe_."

A grip on the back of his neck made his back go taught. His hands fell from his face, and air rushed back into his lungs.  
  
"Slow down or you'll hyperventilate."

When Stiles could finally breathe properly, he spoke.

"You're a werewolf. Oh my god. Oh my god."

Derek's eyebrows rose, unimpressed.

Stiles gripped his leather jacket, "I've never met another one. Jesus Christ, I think I'm gonna have another panic attack."

"What do you mean you've never met another one before? You're a _born_ werewolf."

Stiles flinched at the disbelieving gaze, but held strong.

"I don't know. My mom wasn't one. My dad isn't one. I thought I was..I felt alone. You can only believe _so_ many online forums before they blur together."

Derek pried his hands off his jacket distractedly, looking around, "Why are you in Beacon Hills?"

It felt like a cold splash of water to his face.

"I live here. I've always lived here."

"Always?" He asked sharply.

He nodded, "My dad's the sheriff now. I'm _Stiles_ by the way. Thanks for asking."

His shock and panic were beginning to fade and bring his actual personality back.

"I didn't."

Stiles gaped as Derek stood and disregarded him on the ground.

"There's an alpha on the loose. It's already killed someone so watch your back."

Stiles barely got off the ground before Derek was leaving and running off between the trees.

 _Kind of a letdown_ , Stiles thought.


End file.
